Who Am I?

Who am I? That is probably one of the most simple questions a person can ask themselves yet it calls for a complex answer, one that details how the person identifies themselves. Who am I? You know, I don’t have an answer to that. If I was held to gunpoint to answer that sort of question, by all means I would, but that would elicit a tart response that could not, or rather would not, divulge into deeper thought. Who am I? Who are you? What are we? It’s as if the words came from a pre-k child yet we all ask ourselves who we are. But to discover who we are we must figure out what influences our perception of identity.

Everything can, in fact, change our definition of identity from media to close friends, from neighborhoods to regions of the country we can identify ourselves with several names that we know associate with ourselves yet we don’t know what it means. Say, for example, a Southerner. You would think kind-hearted folk with a knack for strange things. A Southern drawl. Backyard grilling. Maybe even television shows that relate to Southerners. But do those constitute a Southerner? The answer is an oddly resonated no. ‘Southerner’ is just a name people who just aren’t Southerners call people that live in the South of the United States. But does that mean we associate ourselves with regions, with land? Well, we could, but we usually don’t. There are just so many things that make us who we are, and help contribute what we think is our identity.

If you take a gander at the definition of identity you come across many definitions but the most profound is “the condition of being oneself or itself, and not another”. Thanks dictionary.com, that really helped. So identity, according to the very fine source of dictionary.com, is being yourself. Okay. That explains everything, yet nothing.

So who do I think I am? How about who do I think I am not. I am not mean, nor fashionable. I am not perfect. I am not good at math. I am not even sure what I want to study in college. I can’t remember what happened five minutes ago, let alone years ago. I strive to be an honest and fair person who evaluates both sides of an argument before responding. I do my homework, though I procrastinate. I have a hard time being nice all the time and frankly, have a horrible attitude most of the time. I like the color blue and all its hues. I stay up until the wee hours in the morning just because I like to think I’m nocturnal. The moon fascinates me as does the wonders of rain and the increasing size of this planet. I love listening to stories, learning about people and the world. I read books and even identify myself with the characters. I stand up for equality and believe that everyone should be treated equal. I am not the color of my skin or other superficial things that people see at first glance. I am much more than that. I have hopes and dreams that hopefully will come true. Like you, I have things that I will be doing in the future that I simply cannot wait for. I don’t know what the future beholds and that excites and scares me. I am a speck of a star amongst a galaxy of twinkling lights. I can be insignificant or significant just based on my actions. With that knowledge, knowledge that frightens me, I can be anything, do anything, shape the world for the better or stand by and watch it crumble. But do I? All those actions and thoughts make up who I am, what my identity is. And it is just ridiculously stupid if you can respond to this question in a one word answer. Who am I? I am just me. Simple.

But who do I want to be? Any way I can change this into a ‘what do I want to do as an occupation’ question? I want to be a writer. Not just any plain old writer for I am that now. I want to draw out emotion, make my readers feel emotion, tug on my readers heartstrings… If I could be a writer just knowing that my readers are responding to my words, then I know I have done what I have always They took the time to read my writings, and in that time have felt some sort of emotion thought the work whether it is happiness or ‘what the heck am I reading’ it caused a response in the reader. Words excite me. In fact I have a thing for words. I love words. I get carried away with words. Can you imagine that all these books that have been written are only the rearrangement of 26 letters? Those letters inspire us, shape us. Words become associated with all our identities. Words have the power to stop injustices or make a whole nation begin a war. Words can express our emotions. Words carry weight unlike any other. ‘I do’ and ‘I love you’ are just words yet they are not just words, they are signs of commitment, a promise. Words unite and yet disunite us. Can you imagine the power that comes with words? I want to learn how to wield words properly, use them to have a reader feel emotion, to be inspired. I want to be the reason why someone stays up late at night to finish reading my work. I want to be the reason why someone stood up for another. I want to be the reason that makes people believe what I say. I want people to laugh because I made them laugh. To cry because I made them cry. I want to be able to invoke such a response in a person that they are moved with what I have to say. This is who I want to be.

But the hardest part (and maybe the reason why I love writing so much) is that anyone can do it. Anyone can be a writer. I am a writer right now. But I am not good yet and with any talent or trick or hobby, you can always get better. I want to learn how to enhance my writings and words so that I may end up published. The deepest secret in me is that I long for the day I can stroll in a bookstore, pick out the book that I have wrote, and buy it all the while mumbling to the cashier that it is MY book and her giving me a look that questions my sanity. This secret is filed right next to ‘making my readers feel emotion’.

So what I want to be a published author. So what I look forward to the future. So what my favorite dessert is chocolate covered strawberries and that I long to live in London. So what? This is who I am, who I want to be. These things create who I am; they make up who I am.

Identity is who you think you are. No one else can tell you that. Not media, not other people, not even your mom. But finding your identity is like an Epic Poem, you have a long way to go before you figure it all out and you will be challenged. Even if you won’t be attacked by some giant sea monster like Odysseus, you will have to sacrifice things in order to learn who you are. And what is life without a challenge? Well, not a life at all. I know for a fact that I am challenged every. single. day. because I rather find comfort and sleep in my own bed then wake up before the sun and go to school. Challenges are thrown in our path every single day and they shape us. Our decisions shape us, as does our words.

So who am I? Man, I have a long way to go before answering this. Ask me again in forty years. By then I should be married, have a wonderful family, have a cat named Merlin and a daughter named Emily. By then a book of mine will be published or better yet, have many books of mine in shelves with readers across the nation crying and laughing because of me. Who knows? Life is a long journey, a long challenge, and until my journey stops and God stops throwing challenges at me I won’t know who I am.

Hopefully my response today was a detailed as I can get and I would like every person who come across this to know that who they identify themselves as today might change tomorrow and that is a good thing. People change for the better and maybe even the worse but we grow along the way. Only we know who we are, or rather, we get a glimpse of who we are. The only way to find out who you really are is to wait until the end, and that’s a long way ahead. If someone calls you a name, pokes fun at the things you like, they don’t know you. And guess what, I bet they have like ridiculous things too. People are more alike than you think and even two people who are complete opposites have common ties. In the end, asking oneself ‘Who am I?’ so young in their life is like cutting meat with a blunt knife; not very effective (for the real response will come when their life has passed).

So what do you do now? Continue on with doing what you love, open you minds to endless possibilities, believe in your dreams and know that one day you can be inspiration for others. Until the end, don’t worry about your identity. We have enough on our minds to worry about as it is.

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